


The Sound of Silence

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: After a life changing trauma, Dawn seeks out an old friend.





	1. Florida

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** \- Nope, I don’t own any of this. Mr. Whedon does. I’m just crafting a birthday gift out of his world. Song lyrics belong to Josh Groban.
> 
>  **Timeline** \- It’s a future AR set after S7/S5
> 
>  
> 
>  **Author’s Note 1** \- For Leni, happy 20th birthday.
> 
>  **Author’s Note 2** \- This started out as a birthday gift for Leni. Then I realized it fit my own geekgirlz In Vino Veritas challenge so it was written for that then I found out about the Hometown Ficathon Challenge and that clinched the setting. So it’s a three in one story.
> 
>  **Author’s Note 3** \- This was originally published in 2004. The Cassadaga Hotel is real. I lived a block away when I wrote this. The Blind Pig was also real and the table described below was real and created by friend.

_Like the sound of silence calling_  
I hear your voice and suddenly I’m falling  
Lost in a dream  
Like the echoes of our souls are meeting  
You say those words, my heart stops beating  
I wonder what it means  
What could it be that comes over me  
At times I can’t move  
At times I can’t hardly breathe  
When You Say You Love Me - Josh Groban 

 

Chapter 1 

Dawn sat on the porch of the Cassadaga Hotel. There wasn’t much to look at in the tiny town. She was surprised that this quiet village in central Florida pulled in tourists from all over the world just to see the psychics...spiritualists...whatever. The whole spiritualist camp was only a few old buildings and some small homes, nothing special looking. In fact, it seemed rather poor and tired. It felt almost ordinary, which was what she was looking for after the hellish time she had been through; if oblivion could be considered hellish, and, for Dawn’s money, it could.

She let her head fall back against the deck chair, taking in the cool winter breeze. The Florida night air felt crisper than she expected, the humidity adding a bite that her southern California home rarely did. Granted, it wasn’t the ice box she had left her family and friends behind in back in London. Dawn banished thoughts of friends and family. She was in Florida to forget them, just for a little while. She didn’t want to cut them out of her life. She just wanted a little time to herself, maybe find an old friend she hadn’t seen in a long while.

Unless she was mistaken, the scent of tobacco wafting up onto the porch, the lack of the sounds of anyone approaching over the wooden steps, Dawn knew he was close. She looked over and smiled weakly at the blond man. Spike spread his arms, and Dawn shot out of the chair. He enveloped her in his cool embrace. Dawn hugged him hard enough that his ribs creaked. She tucked her chin on his shoulder, wondering when she had gotten almost as taller as him. Spike just let her decide when it was time to break contact.

Dawn stepped back, trying not to cry. She promised herself she wouldn’t. She had to be a grown up. That was what this was about, being grown up, old enough to make her own choices, live her own life. It had been hard to do that, to become her own woman back in England. There was just too much shadow to claw her way out from under. Buffy surprised her, stepping aside enough to let the sunlight hit her. It was the well-meaning Willow and Xander who were smothering her, trying to keep her fifteen when she was looking at twenty in a few months.

“Thought we lost...”

Dawn pressed her fingers to Spike’s lips. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go somewhere fun then we can talk.”

Spike flicked his cigarette into the street. “This is Cassadaga, luv. The sun goes down and the streets roll up. All the tourists think there’re witches here doing spells all night so the place gets a rep it doesn’t deserve. Especially seeing as they’re psychics not witches, and there are no pubs or clubs in town. You’re out of luck. The most exciting thing that happens is bingo once a week and occasionally dances but I think you need to be over fifty-five for that.”

“Spike,” Dawn broke in before Spike could really get on a ramble. “There has to be something to do that doesn’t involve the crowds at Daytona or Orlando.”

“Yeah, I can get you there.” Spike looped an arm around her.

“And can we not talk until we get there?” She felt treacherous for asking but she just wanted to be alone, quiet, to feel his presence rather than hear his voice.

If he was offended, Spike didn’t show it. “Anything you want, luv.”

Dawn watched the mix of houses and trees go by as Spike took the roads too fast. He made a few comments about hoping he wasn’t driving into the swamp since he still didn’t really know the area well. Dawn knew he had been sent by Giles and Buffy to Florida three weeks ago, a week after the big trauma happened. He was here trying to find a way to save her, only in the end she didn’t need saving.

He parked on a back road and led her to a very small bar called the Blind Pig. He held the door open, and Dawn paused for a moment. The place was full except for one table. She thought for a moment about going back to the hotel. Maybe she wasn’t really ready to see Spike or to be out on her own, just like Xander had said. Wobbly like a newborn deer she swallowed down the urge to bolt as it swelled. She ignored that gut feeling, went in, and took the last table.

“Where are we?”

“DeLand. The Watchers put me up here. Too much traffic at the Cassadaga hotel to stay for long. Want a beer?” 

Dawn looked up at him in surprise but nodded. As he moved off, she looked around the bar. The crowd was young. There was probably a college nearby. She examined the table noticing that it, and all the tables, were works of art. Hers had photos of graveyards embedded in it with hieroglyphic-type figures painted around them, rather surreal and creepy. Spike came back and set a beer in front of her. She took a hearty swig of it, not caring she was still about fifteen months too young to be drinking it. “Thanks, Spike.”

“Just don’t tell your sister. She’ll stake me if anything happens to you.” He grinned, then his face fell, realizing what he had just said. “Dawn, I’m sorry.”

“What worse could happen to me here? I think of what I just went through...” she broke off, looking down at the pictures in the table.

Spike put his hands over hers. “When I thought you were gone for good...” Spike’s eyes misted. “Without me ever getting the chance to tell you that I really cared about you. I know that when I came back from wherever it was that I went after the battle with the First, I should have come to find you guys in Europe and say my piece.”

“You were needed in L.A., and I’m not...well, it was just easier that you didn’t.” Dawn saw the pain in his eyes but it was the truth. It was easier on Buffy not having to deal with either Spike or Angel after Sunnydale collapsed. Scouring the world for new Slayers took up a lot of time, and they could all put aside their pain and just lose themselves in work. Dawn knew she had. She had lost a lot, even her mother’s grave, but she kept reminding herself that she still had a lot. Almost all her friends and family had made it out alive, and she had mourned the loss of Anya and Spike. By the time Spike had come back to life, she hadn’t forgiven him for trying to rape Buffy, but she had allowed herself to see his final sacrifice as a form of redemption.

“They wanted to give you a funeral, the new Slayers, did your sister tell you that?” Spike’s blue eyes bore into hers.

Dawn nodded and gulped at her beer. It slid down her throat, bitter and slightly acidic. It reminded her she was alive, and after being nothing, that felt good. “I know. I also know you and Angel came to England to help Buffy and the others find me, Kennedy, and Cally.”

“For all the good we did,” Spike said, his voice laced with loathing as he drained his beer.  
“You tried. I appreciate that.” Dawn polished off her beer in three long swallows. Spike immediately got up. Dawn watched his thin frame threading through the tight-knit tables towards the bar. She could image his fear and panic when she disappeared. Everyone thought Kennedy and Cally were alive, on the other side of the portal but they thought the Key lost forever. They concentrated on finding the lost ones, having no clue how to reclaim her.

Spike sat back down, handing her a fresh beer. She took that as a sign he was saying it was okay to get drunk because she needed it. And she did, totally. “I thought the kid was going to lose it...and Red, God, no one should have to go through that. You would have been proud of Peaches, though, Dawn. He was right there for Willow and Buffy.”

She smiled, surprised he was willing to admit anything good about Angel. “I know. Buffy told me.”

“Thought the kid was going to find a way to punch right through to wherever the fuck you guys were,” Spike said.

“Connor’s done that before.” Dawn swallowed beer as fast as she could, trying to wash Connor’s memory out of her mind. Before the whole tragedy, he and she were a couple. Now, she didn’t know what they were any more. A train wreck that everyone couldn’t help but stare at, and it was her fault because she was being ridiculous.

“Yeah, and I thought the kid’s father was intense. Fuck all, Nancy Boy’s got nothing on his brat.” Spike lit up, ignoring the glare of the college kids at the next table. 

Dawn realized Spike was the only one outside of a girl near the door, desperately trying to look cool, who was smoking. “Can’t argue the intensity thing,” she muttered.

Spike’s eyes narrowed, a protective shield falling over him. “Did the kid do something to you, Bit?”

She didn’t think Spike, or Faith for that matter, called Connor anything but ‘the kid.’ It made him chew the walls in frustration. Dawn called him ‘Blue Eyes’ in private. Right now, she wasn’t speaking to him. “He didn’t do anything, Spike.” More beer trickled down her throat. Her head was already swimming. She wasn’t a drinker. “That’s part of the problem. He’s weirded out.”

“He was that way before this all got started,” Spike huffed. “Never did see what you saw in him.”

Dawn pursed her lips, licking foam off of them as she set her empty mug aside. She couldn’t tell Spike the truth because it was ugly. She wondered if she ever loved Connor or she had simply pretended she did care for him deeply? Truth was, she did care, but there was always some obstacle in the way of them being entirely happy. Maybe it was because they were both freaks. That’s what she’d tell Spike at any rate. “We’re both...unique. We had a lot to talk about. He’s very tender, Spike. Connor cares too much sometimes.” And he did, so much so that Dawn feared he’d get obsessive like Spike did over Buffy but so far that hadn’t happened. 

Spike snorted, and eyed her like he didn’t buy that. Dawn ignored it. She couldn’t tell him the truth that Willow and Xander worried about her too much, tried too hard to protect her. Worse, Kennedy got in on the act, like Dawn wanted to hear anything that bitch had to say. She didn’t know why she hated Kennedy. Maybe it was because she had loved Tara so much. It was Tara and Willow who were like big sisters to her, caring for her after Mom and Buffy died. She didn’t want Kennedy in that role, especially since she was old enough to take care of herself. 

Every time she tried to go out on a date, Willow, Kennedy, and Xander were there like overbearing parents. Even Buffy knew better, or maybe it was just Buffy was too busy. Xander kept steering her toward Andrew, who was becoming a Watcher wash out. He didn’t have the mental dexterity for it all. He’d end up in the OPS staff doing the filing or mail room at the rate he was going. Andrew was such a pompous ass; he made what Wesley had been the first time he had come to the States seem mild in comparison. That didn’t bother Dawn. Andrew could be rarely funny, but she knew the truth about what he had done to Katrina. It was worse than what Spike had done to Buffy. She wasn’t going to rationalize Spike’s actions as he thought it was one of the dark sex games he and Buffy used to play. She had heard Buffy herself do that, and it made her sick, but maybe there was some truth to it, not to mention the whole soul-less part of Spike at that time. Andrew had no such excuse, and she didn’t understand what made Xander think it was okay for her to be with him.

“Connor is intriguing, Spike,” she muttered finally, pushing her beer mug at him. He obligingly got up and got a third round. He was right; if Buffy knew about him getting her drunk, he was walking dust. At least the intriguing part was true. Connor had joined up with Giles at Angel’s suggestion. After killing Sahjhan, Connor had played at going back to his lie of a life, pretending his memory was still wiped but he couldn’t keep it up. The truth ate him up but he just wasn’t ready to stay in L.A. so Angel sent him to join Giles, figuring Connor might relate to the father figure in Giles. He wasn’t wrong. She and Connor grew together naturally.

Xander hated it. Dawn didn’t know if it was because Connor was Angel’s son, or if it was because he was rough and dangerous, but the resentment was there bubbling under the surface. The first time Dawn went out with Connor was because Xander and Kennedy had kicked up a fuss at Connor taking her out patrolling. She had had enough. To hell with them, she decided. She was training with Giles to be a mage and a Watcher. She had a lot of power, certainly enough to go out on patrol. There had been an ugly screaming match with them over whose life it was and whose choices. Willow had finally kept out of it, but more because she was in her second trimester and feeling bad.

Kennedy did her best to break her and Connor up after that, as if that was the way to prove to Willow she was doing what the witch wanted. Ever since Willow got pregnant, Dawn knew their lives were strained. They had wanted to have a kid, to prove their commitment, and Dawn feared it was backfiring. She wanted Willow to be happy, even if it was with Kennedy. Dawn knew Buffy was of the same mind as her. After the whole mutiny in Sunnydale, neither of them trusted the younger Slayer. Buffy had forgiven Dawn her part in that, which Dawn didn’t think she deserved, but Kennedy was tolerated for Willow’s sake alone.

It was easy to ignore Kennedy’s meddling. It was harder to deal with Xander’s coolness towards her. It brought her closer to Buffy, in some perverse way. Now she truly understood how Buffy felt when she found herself at the business end of Xander’s sharp tongue in regards to Angel. Buffy liked Connor, and Dawn was glad of that. She knew it was because he was Angel’s son and for no other reason that Buffy liked him, but she didn’t want her sister to hate the man she was with. _Because you know she’d hate the man you think you really want to be with_ , her mind whispered as Spike sat back down with the beers.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

“Too muddy to clarify,” she replied, thinking on the look on Xander’s face when he realized Connor wasn’t just her boyfriend but her lover. She took a terrible delight at rubbing it in Xander’s face. With the right urging, Connor could be loud and wild and half the complex knew what they were up to. He was too naive to know it was wrong, and she didn’t care. “Thinking about love.”

“Ugh, yeah, that’s always muddy,” he agreed, doing the shot he had brought back with his beer. She saw he didn’t get her one, which was just as well.

She watched the muscles of his neck work as he swallowed, and knew in her heart why Connor would always just be about the sex and not love, well not entirely. A piece of her heart was still in a crypt back in the remains of Sunnydale. 

Spike’s hand reached out, covering hers. It was cool and calloused, the nails painted black again. He had backslid a bit into his Billy Idol look, but she liked it. “Want to talk about the whole thing now, luv?”

Dawn hung her head, her hair nearly falling into the beer. “There’s not much to talk about, Spike. You know how it all got started.” She glanced up, and he bobbed his head. Dawn thought back about it. She had been with Connor, going to meet Kennedy to pick up Willow’s daughter, Cally. Connor adored the baby, loved babysitting and so did Dawn. Kennedy hated it. Dawn knew then that Cally was going to be the death knell for Willow’s relationship with the Slayer. 

Willow had been with Giles doing a spell in Glasgow, leaving the baby with Kennedy who was more than happy to hand Cally over to Dawn for the weekend. What they hadn’t expected was Amy Madison finding them in London. “I can’t believe Amy still blames Willow for leaving her as a rat,” Dawn mumbled.

“Probably drove her batty,” Spike said. “Insane people aren’t exactly reasonable. Trust me on that one.”

Dawn nodded. “Dru certainly would give you perspective on the matter.” It made sense to Dawn. Amy was out to hurt Willow, and she had found the right spell. “I don’t remember much of it, Spike. Amy hit me with that spell, and everything just ended. I became the Key. It didn’t even hurt.” Dawn heard the faraway tone of her voice.

“I’m glad of that. It hurt when I died...both times. Of course, you didn’t die...just turned back into energy.”

Dawn choked back a sob, pressing her fingers against her lips. “It wasn’t scary. It wasn’t anything. I could have been like that for seconds or a century. I wouldn’t be able to say. There was no sense of time or being. I was just nothing. Occasionally images flickering in my mind...if I even had a mind. You and Willow and Buffy and Xander and Giles. Angel, too, and Connor. But it was all disconnected. Since I’ve been back, I’ve been wondering if that’s what Cordy felt like when she was a higher being. Of course, I can’t ask her.” Dawn paused, thinking about Cordy’s death. “I wasn’t a higher being, just a portal.”

“You’re not just a portal, and I know I don’t have to tell you that,” Spike said, his voice soft yet stern.

“I know, but when Amy activated that Key part of me, that was all I was, Spike, energy, a portal, and we still don’t know which dimension I opened other than it wasn’t Glory’s realm because the timing was wrong, and it’s not Quor-Toth since there aren’t any portals there.”

“Giles said he thought it might be Underhill,” Spike said. “Of course, he didn’t know that when he sent me to Florida to look for that interdimensional book of tricks, or Angel after that woman who closed the rip Connor tore between dimensions back when he first arrived.”

“I’m just lucky she was able to get us all back.” Dawn rubbed her eyes. It hadn’t been fast enough. She was fine, but wherever it was her friends had been shunted into, time moved differently. Why couldn’t it have been like Pylea, and then at least Willow could have had her daughter back. No, it had to be like Quor-Toth, years going by for weeks on earth. 

“At least the bitch got hers,” Spike said, going for the fourth round.

Dawn watched him thinking about what he said. She hadn’t known at the time that anything had happened. One minute she was and the next she was nothing, spread out through the interdimensional fabric. When they had retrieved her, she learned that Kennedy and the baby had been shoved through the portal she had opened and closed behind them. Connor had tried to pull Kennedy back, and, failing that, threw Amy in after them. Dawn had closed the portal - or something made her do it, she didn’t know. She had no recollection of it - leaving Connor to be the one to tell Willow and Giles what happened.

She gulped down the beer, trying to banish the image of Kennedy, Amy and Cally as they were now.

“Easy, luv. If you get pissed up, you’ll get sick on me.”

Dawn figured that was a given. She was plastered. Her lips were numb, and she felt like going face down on the table. “This is the last one.”

“I just wish I could do more, you know,” Spike said softly.

“You are. You’re looking for that book. It’s important.”

Spike waved her off. “It was important when you were gone. Now, it’s not. I wish I could do something to make Red feel better and Rupert.”

Dawn shook her head. “You can’t. No one can. Angel and Connor are trying. That’s all they do. I never see Connor anymore. He spends so much time with Cally and Willow.”  
Spike gave her a suspicious look. “Is that why you’re here?”

“That’d be petty of me now wouldn’t it?” she snapped, and then pulled her fingers through her hair. “Sorry, Spike. I’m here because I need time to be alone. I did a little alone in New York, but that was too much aloneness. I thought, they still have you here so why not help. I trust you’re not going to keep babying me because of what happened. Amy made me into nothing. I have to deal with that, and I can’t if people keep treating me like glass.”

“Have I done that?” Spike cocked an eyebrow at her.

“No, you’re getting me drunk and I appreciate that. Poor Connor, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to act around me. Maybe that’s why he’s spending so much time with Cally.” Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t you think he feels like he knows what Cally’s been through? They both get sucked into a hell dimension as a crib rat and come back as an adult.”

“Cally is nearly as old as her own mother, Spike. A decade there for every week here. Kennedy and Amy are like nearly fifty.” Dawn remembered seeing them for the first time. The alcohol refused to kill the memory. Kennedy with nearly white hair, Amy walking with a limp from a badly healed leg and Cally, a beautiful woman in her late twenties, self- assured blue eyes, tall, long red hair and a beautiful body, a perfect blend of Willow and Giles. That led her to the ugly memory of when they learned the anonymous donor for Willow’s baby was Giles. Buffy and Dawn had suspected Xander until Kennedy blurted it out during a vicious spat with Willow. Xander was left feeling like he was too stupid for Willow to consider as a dad.

“I know, Li’l Bit. We got you back, but it’ll never be like it was.” Spike finished his drink. “It really dredged stuff up between Connor and Angel, brought them closer if you can imagine that.”

“I didn’t notice...I just couldn’t be there, you know.” Dawn sobbed loudly and saw people were looking at her. “Take me back to my hotel, Spike.”

He put his arm around her and led her out. He tried to pull her close, comfortingly, but she wouldn’t let him. He drove back in near silence and she almost wished he would say something to take her mind off the spinning in her head. He walked her up onto the porch of the Cassadaga hotel and she suddenly hugged him.

“Thank you for not pressuring me, Spike,” she said, and then kissed him roughly. She buried her hands in his hair, not letting him escape, trying to devour him.

He eased her away. “Whoa, Dawn. You’re in all the wrong state of mind to be doing this.”

“Says you. How can you not know I used to be so in love with you?” She tried to kiss him again but Spike danced back. 

“Let’s get you inside.” Spike stammered out, looking stunned.

Dawn shoved him. “Leave me alone.”

She fled inside, thundering past the ghost in the first floor hallway and into her little room off the veranda. How could she have told Spike she loved him? Worse, what if she really did? She barely made it into the bathroom before most of the beer made a return visit. Feeling horrible, and not just because of the booze, she collapsed into bed and wept.


	2. The Storm

Chapter Two

Dawn lay on her rock hard bed well into the day, hung over. Her head felt like it was too heavy to lift off the pillow. Finally, she stumbled to the Lost in Time café inside the hotel and tried to shove down a donut and coffee. She ended up back in her room on her knees vomiting inside the ‘iron maiden,’ which was what she had taken to calling the bathroom since she could sit on the toilet and nearly rub knees on the other wall.

It was one in the afternoon by the time she tried to find a way to distract herself. Finding a way to live again was taking a lot of work. Dawn so totally got her sister now, and regretted any impatience she might have had with Buffy back when they had pulled her back into the land of the living.

Dawn wasn’t ready for the big crowds of the theme parks. Her short time in New York proved she wasn’t into crowds, so she went to the Blue Springs Manatee Festival. It was only a few miles away, and she wanted to see the manatees in the wild. She never did anything normal. She didn’t have a life outside of Buffy’s little world, no interests that weren’t hooked into slaying. Going to see manatees was normal so she wanted to do it, even if she wasn’t feeling all that well.

She wandered around the festival. It wasn’t very large. Some arts and crafts, some ecological booths, a Native American display and a chance to eat alligator nuggets. If she wasn’t still hung over, she might have tried it just to be experimental. She poked around the fairgrounds but the Native American drumming felt like it was going on inside her head so she took the shuttle to the springs. There were too many people, and she had to fight for the glimpse of the manatee she managed to see or at least thought she saw.

It had gotten too hot for her tastes. It really wasn’t any hotter than Sunnydale had been but the humidity was overwhelming. It was like trying to breathe through a wet sponge. Winter shouldn’t be that hot and humid. She gave up on the rest of the festival. She had seen most of it and as fun as it might be to pose with a Florida Panther, she decided to save the money and grab herself a pizza, feeling up to eating finally, and get out of the sun.

Off a tip from a local, she found Angelina’s and got the special. She went back to the Cassadaga Hotel and enjoyed one of the best pies she had ever eaten. It felt good to cool down in the air conditioning. Her skin looked a little pink. Dawn knew she shouldn’t bitch. Where Buffy was, it was freezing cold. Dawn was learning to enjoy the cold, however. It was easier to warm up than it was to cool down.

Back in England, she’d curl up under the covers with Connor. He was so warm, even if he was nothing but skin and bones. He put out huge amounts of heat. Many nights, she slept with nothing but a sheet over her because of the heat Connor was throwing off.

Dawn thought about what it would be like to curl up with Spike. She knew his flesh would be cool. Buffy, Willow and Faith had been comparing and contrasting lovers once over margaritas. Buffy had invited Dawn to join. Maybe it was the fact Buffy knew Dawn had a lover that earned her the right to sit at the adult table and listen to the big girl talk. Dawn hadn’t said much that night but she had listened.

She learned that a vampire didn’t get any warmer than the room around them, not even during sex. They remained cool even when they worked up a sweat, that they had a slightly odd odor when they perspired and that they didn’t blush. From that, she knew Spike would have a chill to him. He would remain pale, no matter what. He couldn’t get that rosy flush that touched Connor’s chest and neck when they made love. Connor’s lips, always a deep shade of pink, turned ruby when they made out. She could expect no such thing from Spike. It should have put her off but it didn’t. The fact that he had been Buffy’s lover didn’t quell her desire.

Spike was her first real crush. Dawn had distinct memories of having a crush on Xander when she was younger but they had tried to figure out when she had been implanted into Buffy’s life. All her childhood memories were fake. No matter how real it felt, her first crush on Xander never happened. Spike came after she had been made flesh. It was real.

But did she want it to be? Could she possibly be in love with him? She was here with him now but Connor kept filtering into her thoughts. She hadn’t thought much about Spike when she was with Connor but things were different now. She had been the Key again. She was adrift, and she needed an anchor. Dawn knew it couldn’t be Connor. He was still pretty rudderless himself. 

She was in Florida thinking about him all the while thinking about her feelings for Spike, wondering what he’d feel like, taste like. Was Connor in England wanting her but touching Cally’s hair, thinking on the things they shared now that she too grew up in a different dimension? Did he want Cally? 

Dawn knew she was being ridiculous. She had always been furious with Buffy for being jealous, and yet here she was, the same way. Connor hadn’t ever given her a reasons to be jealous. He was trying to help Cally readjust, and Dawn knew she was transferring a lot of stuff onto their relationship that wasn’t real.

Connor just didn’t know how to handle her confusion and fear after being the Key. He tried but even when he did what Dawn wanted, she found fault. It was the reason she had gone first to New York. Finding Spike in Florida had been an afterthought. Connor hadn’t wanted her to go, but he didn’t try to make her stay. He only did what she asked him to, even though he hadn’t wanted to. The night before she left, Dawn had all but knocked him down, and had her way with him. She insisted on it being raw and rough, demanding more and more of his strength until he finally said no. It had felt good. The pain made her feel alive. There had been some blood, and Connor had freaked out. He never wanted to hurt her and couldn’t grasp the concept of a good pain. Would Spike be able to?

Dawn slapped a hand into her forehead. “Gah, I’m going to drive myself nuts.”

She got up and took some tourist pamphlets off the dresser. She needed a distraction. Leave it to her to find a hotel that didn’t have a TV in the rooms. The candlelight healing services would start soon at Spirit Lake. It was just down the street, behind the Colby Temple. 

“I could use a good healing,” she muttered to no one and went outside, heading for the lake.

Spirit Lake wasn’t big, more like a glorified pond than a lake. In the moonlight, Dawn scanned the lake, wondering if there were any alligators in it. Seeing that all the healers were women over the age of sixty, she decided to not opt for the laying on of hands, half afraid energies like hers might overwhelm the elderly healers. 

Spike sat in a rattan chair, smoking on the veranda when Dawn walked back to the hotel. All he needed was a mint julep. He smirked at her. “Never pictured you as the faith healing type.”

Dawn shrugged, dropping into the chair next to his. She looked down the hill at Harmony Hall with its bright Christmas lights, which she assumed must stay up all year. “Figured it couldn’t hurt.”

“Hung over that bad?” Spike looked vaguely amused.

“Yes, thank you.” She eyes him sourly.

“Any time, Li’l Bit.” Spike went uncharacteristically sober. “Want to talk?”

“About what?” she asked, evasively.

Spike just raised an eyebrow, lighting another cigarette. “Do you remember anything about last night?”

Dawn kept her gaze on the Christmas lights. It was too hard to meet Spike’s eyes. They were such a pretty blue, a lot like Connor’s. Maybe that was one of the reasons she had picked the young man. Maybe she should stop looking for reasons, similarities and differences between the men. Dawn knew she had choices to make. She could fake not remembering last night and go back to Connor like nothing had happened, or being honest with Spike and see where it led, if it went anywhere. She felt a shiver race through her, suddenly very afraid. “I remember me making an idiot of myself on the veranda, and then there was lots of vomiting that I’d rather forget.” She shuddered, screwing up her face.

“I wouldn’t say you made an idiot of yourself.”

Spike said it so quietly that Dawn had to lean in to hear him. He was forcing her to look at him. and it irritated her. He wasn’t going to let her off easy. “Maybe I’m remembering it differently than you.”

He took a long drag, blowing smoke rings. “You think you’re an idiot for liking me? Thanks, Bit, that makes me feel so good.”

Dawn felt a flush hit her cheeks. “Well, why shouldn’t I feel that way...a little at any rate, given what you are, what you’ve done, who you’ve been involved with, were in love with...and maybe still are.” Dawn thought she could almost see her words crystalizing in the air. It was all out there now, no taking it back.

Spike just smoked silently for a few minutes. “I’m not in love with Buffy any more, Dawn.” Dawn shot him a disbelieving look. He shrugged. “Hell, I’ll always have some feeling for her, I won’t lie, just like the big Poof does but I know it won’t ever work. We brought out the worst in each other. That’s the reason I didn’t go looking for her after I came back from the dead.”

“I did wonder,” Dawn said softly.

“I started for Europe but then I thought about it. She was better off without me.” He flicked his cigarette away. “Did she tell you that she told me that she loved me there at the end inside the Hellmouth?”

Dawn’s gut clenched. She couldn’t do this, not if Buffy really did love him. She’d go back to Connor and pretend this never happened. She wondered if she looked as pale as she felt. 

Spike brushed her hair back. “Guess she didn’t.”

“I didn’t think she honestly loved you,” Dawn managed to squeak out, not meeting his eyes.

“She didn’t, still doesn’t. I think she knew whoever wore that bauble wasn’t bloody coming back from the fight.”

“She wouldn’t have just sent you to your death.” Dawn was horrified by the very idea.

“Sure she would, ‘Bit.” Spike shifted in the high back rattan chair. “There was no choice. We both knew it. Hell, the big Poof knew when he volunteered for duty, and she told him no. I knew I was signing up for a kamikaze mission.”

Dawn contemplated that. If Buffy had known, that meant she wanted Angel to live more so than Spike, or maybe she had planned on wearing it herself, going back into the land of the dead they had dragged her kicking and screaming from. Dawn didn’t know which was worse.

“I think she said it because she knew I wanted to hear it.” Spike shook his head. “She never could lie to me. She still loves him, Dawn, even if she can’t admit it.”

“Angel.”

“Yeah. I saw that kiss she gave him when he got to Sunnydale.” Spike glanced away. “You don’t French casual acquaintances. The fire is still there. I was never part of that. She cared for me, Dawn, don’t think hard of her for not caring. I offered her what she needed at a very bad time in her life.”

“You got your soul for her,” she said. Dawn wondered how she had forgotten that or at least not take it into account. How could she compete with the power of emotion that it took to do such a thing?  
Spike’s eyes went furtive. “I keep telling myself that.”

Dawn was stunned that he even suggested that there was another motive. “So, it’s not why you did it?”

His knuckles thumped against the table. “I told the creature that did this to me that I wanted to give the bitch what she deserved. Does that sound like love to you?”

Dawn shuddered. “No.”

“Didn’t plan on this, Dawnie, but I like to pretend I set out to be a poor man’s Angel.” Spike tapped his chest. “It makes me feel even better about myself. I got my soul because I wanted to, not having it forced on me as a punishment. What a blighter I am. Truth be told, I didn’t know what I was getting but in the end, it was good thing. I tried to be a good man for her...for all of you. Angel made it look so easy. I had forgotten how barmy he was when he first got the soul. He’s been doing this for a hundred years or so. I never knew it took so much work, to be good.”

“It does. I mean, it has to be easier being evil,” Dawn broke in. “You don’t have to care who might get hurt or any of that stuff.”

He bobbed his head. “Exactly.”

“Spike, I get that you care for Buffy, but I need to know, did you ever care about me?” Dawn asked softly.

Spike leaned over and kissed her cheek. She knew it would be a cool kiss. She just hadn’t known how cold. “Dawn, my girl, I have always cared about you, even before the soul. I cared about each and every Summers girl. Your mum was the first person since I was turned to treat me like a man instead of a monster. If anyone can get credit for saving me, for giving me reason to be a good man, it’s Joyce.”

Dawn’s eyes widened. She had no clue Spike felt like that about her mother. “I know you used to talk to her.”

“Maybe more than you knew. I started going to the gallery at night when she’d close so she wouldn’t have to be alone during demon time.” He shot her a sheepish look. “She’d show me the new art she had. I know it makes me as big a poof as Angel but I like art.”

“It doesn’t make you a poof and who would care if you were?” Dawn smiled. “It’s sweet.”

He pointed at her with his cigarette. “That’s worse. Anyhow we’d talk. You have no idea how good it feels to have an adult to talk to. Tried it once or twice with Rupert since he’s in the same position, surrounded by teens, but Watchers and vampires just don’t mix. Your mum knew what I was but she never was afraid of me.” A scowl touched his lips. “It irritated me at first, like I was losing my touch or something but I got past it and realized ‘hey, it’s nice to have someone to share a cuppa with.’ It hurt when she died. You might not know it, but I tried to go to the funeral. Harris stopped me.”

Dawn sucked in a gulp of air. “Why?”

“Because I’m a vampire. Hurts like bloody hell. He even trampled my flowers.” Spike’s lower lip quivered. “I was gonna show up and read my poem at the grave, the one your mum liked best. She liked my poetry but Angel was there with your sis and she needed that time with him so I didn’t intrude. I went the next day alone. That was for the best. Didn’t need Harris to see me blubbering anyhow.” Spike smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in his shirt, deep green a color Dawn had never seen him in before.

“I didn’t know Mom liked your poetry. Will you read some to me?” Dawn rested her hand over his on the dented and scratched patio table.

“If you promise not to laugh. My poetry is an acquired taste, I guess. Dru and Joyce liked it. Most everyone else just laughed.” Spike lit up another cigarette. “Peaches confessed to liking it, made me feel all warm inside.” He smirked.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I would never laugh, Spike, even if I didn’t like it. That would be mean. I know how I’d feel if someone laughed at my art. It’s hard enough knowing Connor doesn’t understand my stuff, even if he doesn’t laugh.” Dawn gnawed her lip. _‘Stupid, don’t bring up your current lover to the man you want to be your new one._ ’

Spike took a long, smooth drag. “The kid’s all rough edges, ‘Bit. Getting dragged up in hell didn’t give him a background to appreciate art. You just have to polish him.” Spike snorted. “Not that I’m sure there’s enough polish in the world to turn that unnatural brat into a diamond.”

Dawn eyed him sourly. “Look who’s talking...still, sometimes diamonds in the rough are nice. And you _will_ read me your poetry.” She licked her lips hesitantly. “Spike, I’m very glad you were there for Mom, really.”

He nodded. “She was a hell of a woman, just like her daughters. You asked me how I felt about you...sort of thought it was clear. You’ve always been special, Pet. I was willing to die for you, twice. You’re just like your mum. You never treated me like a monster...until I did what I did to Buffy. And I deserved every bit of your hatred for that.”

“I just don’t understand how it got that out of control.” Dawn hated thinking about that night. Part of her wished she never found out but mostly she was glad she had. She didn’t want to be wearing blinders, not for any man.

Spike whipped the butt of his cigarette away. “I’ve been haunted by that since it happened. The conclusion is ugly. I’m an obsessive bastard, Pet.” He held up a hand against her protest. “Don’t argue, Dawn. If you’re going to entertain any of those emotions you have for me, you need to understand what I really am.”

Her eyes slotted. “And you think you’re an obsessive bastard.”

“I know it. Look at the evidence. I was too mild-mannered to stalk Cicely but all my poetry was for her. I couldn’t let her go, even though I knew I wasn’t in her league. It killed me quite literally. I ran from her, right into Dru’s arms. My obsession didn’t end with the grave. I destroyed Cicely. I mean, she turned into a vengeance demon. I had to be responsible for that somehow. I made Dru my new obsession. I told your sister I was helping her stop Angelus because I wanted to save the world. I figure the world would be a lot less fun if this was hell, but the real reasons is I wanted Dru to myself. I wanted Angelus gone. Buffy pegged it for what it was instantly. I guess she could hardly forget I summoned the Judge to destroy humanity just to give Dru a good birthday.”

“That was for her birthday?” Dawn shuddered.

Spike nodded, grimly. “Everything I did was to make Dru happy then the obsession transferred to Buffy. Maybe it was her Slayerness. I’ve always had a thing for Slayers. Maybe it was I always have to have what Angel’s had, or maybe there was love from the start. No matter, it went cock up, and I’m the one who buggered the relationship. She’s better off without me.”

Dawn wondered if he was giving her a graceful out. _Here’s the ugly truth. Now run while you can girl_. Dawn wasn’t in the running mood. “Are you sure of that?”

Spike snorted. “It was never going to be a healthy thing, Dawn. It had roots in her despair, and it went to hell from there. If it weren’t for you being turned into the bloody Key, Buffy would still be avoiding me and this time, I’m taking the hint. The last time I went all around the bend trying to get my woman to love me again I ended up chipped then souled and the fun was over.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Incorrigible.”

“Sounds like Rupert talking. Ah, ‘Bit, I’m a bad, rude man, been that way a very long time, but you never seemed to mind, always hanging out in my crypt. Damn, your sister started using me as a bleeding babysitter. Why I put up with being treated like that, I’ll never know.”

“You loved it. And I didn’t need a baby-sitter,” Dawn huffed, watching him puffing up his chest in mock indignity. “And that’s not why I stayed with you all those afternoons.”

“I know that, ‘Bit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “If I had even thought to act on those feelings of yours, the Slayer would have killed me and been slow about it.”

Dawn pursed her lips. “You’re probably right.”

“No probablies about it.”

“It didn’t stop me from feeling that way.” She wanted to grab him, make him feel that love.

“The heart wants what it wants. Emotions are stronger than logic, Pet. Anyone who tells you different is a fool,” Spike said. “But you were just a kid. Okay, in my mortal days you would have been marrying age but that’s not how things are done anymore.”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” Dawn said softly, feeling her pulse picking up.

He looked at her, brushing her hair back. “No, you’re not.”

“And I still want you.” 

She leaned over the table and kissed him. She broke the kiss, getting up. Dawn took his hand and pulled him to his feet. She kissed him again, more warmly, so to speak. He tasted like an ashtray but she could get used to that, she assured herself.

“Dawn, are you sure?” He sounded gentle, sweet, unsure of himself. It was a vulnerability she had heard in him only a few times.

“You said it yourself, you were willing to die for me. How can we not explore this?” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Come inside.”

Her hands shook as she led him into the tiny hotel room. Once the veranda door closed, there would be no going back, no undoing things. Spike just looked at her for a moment, giving her that time to change her mind. She didn’t take it.

They made love on her rock hard bed with the ceiling fan’s pull chain hula-ing above them. He took it slow and tender. The cool skin was a distraction but not as bad as she would have thought. She was right where she wanted to be, with whom she wanted to be with. When he finally had to leave a little before sunrise, she let him go reluctantly before dropping off contentedly. It was all she had dreamed and more.

X X X

She waited for him just like she said she would, a half hour past sundown. Mosquitos buzzed lazily in her ear as she stood on the veranda. He was late so she took a walk around the narrow very 1920’s hallways of the hotel, and Spike shocked her by being in her room when she got back. He was packing her bags. She shut the door behind her, mouth standing open.

He looked up as he zipped her bag. “It wasn’t locked in any serious way.”

“Why are you packing my luggage?” Her voice was tight, her heart thudding.

“Because you’re going home to London,” he replied.

Dawn grabbed his hand, yanking him away. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I’m going to continue to look for that ruddy book, and you’re going back where you belong.”

“I belong with you.” Dawn felt the tears pricking her eyes. How could he do this to her?

“You belong home, Dawn. You have too much unfinished business there.” His eyes were flat, no emotion, like he had found a way to shear it out of his soul.

“Is this because you think I’m using you to get back at Connor? I know you felt Buffy used you but I would never do that,” she said, her voice getting shrill.

He went over to her, cupping her chin. “I know. But you have a young man waiting for you back home. You owe it to him to tell him to his face that it’s over. Remember how Buffy was gutted when Soldier Boy just left or the Poof taking off without much warning?”

Dawn bit her lips, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I remember.”

“A terrible traumatic thing just happened to you, Dawn. You needed last night. I’m not going to argue that but you still need to pull your life together. Starting this in the middle of that...I’ve already been down that road a time or two. It’s not the way to start. I should have remembered that last night and just said no.” He wiped away her tears. “I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

She hugged him fiercely. “I’m not.”

“And if you’re still not in the future, then we can try this. Give yourself time to really think about what you want, Dawn. Think about the repercussions. Save yourself some heartaches.”

“You walk out that door without me...how does that save me heartache?” she whispered.

“It’s not forever, ‘Bit.” He kissed her. “You need to recover more. You’re still too raw.”

Dawn grabbed his hand, not willing to let him go. “And if I say I’m not?”

“I’ll know when you really mean it.” He smiled at her and headed out onto the veranda, his fingers slipping out of hers.

Dawn collapsed on the bed, smothering her cries in the floral bed cover. She could smell his cigarette wafting back to her, like a siren’s call. She knew he wouldn’t budge on this. She knew how stubborn he could be and damn him if he wasn’t right. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. _God, it hurts_. He was gone, for now leaving her with the sound of silence. It was crushing.

The noon sun found her over the Atlantic, but a large part of her was mired in Florida. She knew he would come back to her if she wanted him to. Time heals all wounds, whoever said that was an idiot but love endures, she reminded herself. She would take her time to heal and deep down she knew who would be at her side when the healing was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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